Phoenix Rising
by FLASOK
Summary: No one thought the world could get worse. Until it's headed for disaster when the Fire Lord makes a new plan. After that, there isn't any hope. The Avatar is the only one who has a shot, but there's just one problem: Where is he? *slight AU* R&R PLZ!
1. Prologue Grim Foreshadowing

**A/N- Hey people! I was just thinking of what to do for another fanfiction, and I got this idea! I've been planning it for days now and I've finally gotten myself to start typing the early chapters. Yeah, CHAPTERS. It's going to be this epic (hopefully epic) multi-chapter story. **

**Things you should know-**

**It's semi-AU. What I mean by that is it still has the four nations (they're just places, not homes to specific benders), but there isn't much Asian culture. ;)**

**Bending is handled MUCH differently. Everything will be explained later in the story.**

**The plot is twisted to my liking. There are very few things that happen like the show.**

**There WILL be ****romance****. Cannon pairings, mostly Kataang. That all comes later though. 8D**

**That's all I got. I don't own Avatar: The Last Airbender or its characters. I only own 90% of the plot line and some random sheets of loose-leaf on which I write my stories. XDD R&R PLZUMZ!!**

Prologue- Grim Foreshadowing 

The young man skidded to a stop when he reached the corner of the old building, his ebony hair tousled from running. His amber eyes darted around the seemingly deserted alleys, cautiously, watching. His breathing was uneven as he listened for any noises that indicated he had a follower. He flattened his thin form against the old brick, attempting to blend with the surrounding shadows, fingernails clawing into the old stone tensely. Quickly, he scanned the alleys once more before pushing himself off the wall and bolting off down the alley to his right, keeping his footsteps light and quick, lest he be seen or heard. He was almost there now; he recognized the familiar craggy buildings that symbolized the edge of town and the beginning of the dregs. Tall shadows from the crumbling buildings loomed over the quiet streets like jagged rows of teeth gulping its prey down into its gullet. The man slipped into the shadows swiftly, blending in as if he were part of the night itself. He knew he still had to be cautious even with the night shading him, for the secret police were everywhere today, jumping out when you least expected it and dragging you off to a horrible fate that no one knew anything about, or wanted to know about for that matter. Inwardly, he laughed bitterly to himself; the secret police would love to get their hands on him and not just because he had a high bounty on his head either.

Gradually, the man slowed his pace as he neared his destination-a weathered wooden door jammed into the granite walls of the building in which it was built into. Considering this was the hiding place of one of the most powerful resistance organizations on the planet, it was unimpressive to say the least, and yet, that was the advantage. Even if the secret police did manage to discover their modest hiding place, they'd never get past security if they attempted to sneak in. Everyone in the organization had a designated password and everyone's names were listed along with a photo ID. The man made a thorough sweep of the area around him with his gaze before knocking once on the wood of the door. In response a little door in the center of the top half opened, revealing a pair of shrewd green eyes.

"State your name and password." a man's voice ordered in a rough whisper. The amber-eyed man's face lit up in surprise.

"Vermeer! They put you on guard duty?" he hissed excitedly. The man named Vermeer's eyes bulged in horror.

"Shh! Not so loud Varjak!" he scolded under his breath. Varjak winced apologetically.

"Niropsoen." Varjak whispered. Vermeer narrowed his eyes at him before closing the tiny door and quietly pulling open the entire wooden door so Varjak could enter. He slipped inside as Vermeer closed the door behind him and stood a few feet from the threshold for a moment, letting his eyes adjust to the dim lighting of the interior. Varjak's gaze wandered around the room, taking in the familiar sights. The old wooden desk still sat near the door on the left, the clipboard holding everyone's names, passwords and photo ID's resting on its worn, slanted surface. The faded, green, quarter-circle couch had kept its place against the wall in the back, its pillows and cushions as lumpy as ever underneath the originally emerald, now a dark lime, fabric. The grand chandelier that still gleamed a warm gold despite its age and hung securely in the high ceiling over their heads, the dust and cobwebs just visible in the weak candle light emitting from the metal candle boxes on the wall. The tile floor was cracked in some places while in others, the tile was missing entirely. It was still the same sepia color and made the circular room in which Varjak stood seem very much like a large mud puddle. In the back of the room, opposite the door was the also dimly lit corridor leading further into the building. Everything seemed to be in the exact same place and condition as it was when he'd last seen the place five months ago.

Varjak frowned as his eyes continued to observe the room, though there really wasn't much to look at considering its small space and lack of much furniture.

"We really should think about redecorating…" he muttered. Vermeer snorted from behind him and Varjak turned around.

"Has working for that carpet maker finally gotten to you?" Vermeer drawled, raising an incredulous eyebrow and crossing his arms over his broad chest. Vermeer had a much stronger build than Varjak, having much broader shoulders and larger muscles. Even his squared jaw seemed strong. Varjak shrugged nonchalantly, and then grinned.

"It's possible." he admitted. Then his expression turned to one of greater seriousness. "So what's the reason they've called me here?" Vermeer sighed heavily, grimacing a little.

"It's not good." he replied gravely, running a hand through his wavy chestnut hair. "They're waiting for you; they'll tell you about it. I'd come with, but I've got guarding duties. Just head to the meeting room, same place it's always been." Vermeer pointed down the corridor and Varjak nodded.

"Thanks. Good to see you again." he said, raising his hand in a small wave before lowering it and walking down the corridor towards the meeting room in which the leaders of the resistance organization awaited his arrival while Vermeer resumed his post.

The corridor hadn't changed from its usual dim, cool atmosphere. The air was dry and tasted faintly bitter when inhaled. Varjak kept his gaze ahead, searching for the door to the meeting room. His eyebrows furrowed in thought and one side of his mouth turned down in a half frown. He wasn't sure he wanted to hear this supposed bad news; the world was already in a moribund state thanks to the "Fire Lord" as he called himself and honestly, he couldn't imagine what could be worse than a dictator who could control fire. What more did he have to gain?

His thinking passed the time it took to get to the heavy oak door at the end of the corridor. He hesitated a moment, staring at the doorknob, then took a deep breath, readying himself for what was to come. He opened the door and stepped inside. The three leaders of the organization watched him carefully as he entered and took a seat on the blue cushion they'd prepared for him, identical to the ones they'd perched themselves upon. Unlike the circular room he'd entered when he'd arrived, this room was hexagonal with a swirling symbol carved into the ivory-colored stone floor on which he sat; the symbol of the resistance organization of which they were a part of.

"You called me masters?" he said, nodding his head once in respect.

"Yes." the chief leader said grimly, frowning as if he'd swallowed something unpleasant. His eyes were weary and tired, most likely from the war that raged. His aging face looked even more creased in the dim light of the room and his grey hair took on the color of the foggy dawn. The other two nodded simultaneously at the chief's words. "The Fire Lord has made plans that could drag the world into an incurably horrible state. He plans to find a phoenix, kill it, and take its power, allowing him to be the world's most powerful firebender and live forever. After he accomplishes this, he will be unstoppable." Varjak gaped in horror. Surely this couldn't be happening. Quickly, he shut his mouth, regaining his composure and swallowed his panic, keeping a straight face.

"Are you saying there is no hope master?" he asked steadily in a quiet tone. The chief sighed.

"There is one hope. But it's slim. There's only a small chance that it could work." he explained. Varjak stamped down the urge to jump to his feet in excitement.

"We have to try, don't we? We must do everything and anything we can." he said determinedly. The chief smiled admiringly, but sadly.

"You are a strong boy, young Varjak. And you are right, but you must understand that failure is much more likely than success." he warned, raising his index finger in the air a-matter-of-factly. Varjak nodded in understanding.

"So what is our one chance at winning this war?" he asked. The chief stayed silent for a moment.

"The only one that can help us is the Avatar." he finally replied.

"Who is the Avatar, master?" Varjak inquired curiously. The chief rested his wrinkled hands on his knees.

"The Avatar is a powerful spirit," he explained, "in the form of a human being. The Avatar has the ability to bend all four elements; water, earth, fire, and air. When the Avatar dies, he is reincarnated. He is the only one with enough power to stop the Fire Lord. The problem is, we have no idea who the current Avatar is and we know he doesn't know how to bend, otherwise we'd have heard about him by now since there have been no benders in over twenty years besides the Fire Lord. We can only hope that we can find the Avatar and his bending will be restored by his past lives."

Varjak had understood the chances were slim, but he hadn't expected it to be quite so literal. How this supposed to work? The masters were setting their hopes much too high, but it was worth a shot he decided. If it meant saving the world from a terrible fate, he'd gladly put his life on the line for the sake of saving it. He pulled himself to his feet and clenched his hands into fists at his sides.

"I'll find the Avatar." he said. The chief shook his head.

"Varjak, Varjak…you brave, foolish boy…" he sighed. Then he looked back up at the young man before him. "The road will be dangerous. You're a wanted man. I hope you know what you're getting yourself into. I will allow you to go, but first you must know that the Avatar is marked with Arrow shaped tattoos on his forehead, hands, and feet. That is all we know. I wish we could have sent you off with more information. Good luck." Varjak bowed to the three leaders.

"Thank you, masters. I will try my best." he replied before leaving the meeting room to begin preparing for his journey.

**A/N- Well that took freaking forever. XDDDD I feel good that it's done though. **

**Aang will come into the story in the next chapter. ;)**

**So did you like it? Hate it? Love it? Should I stop writing at once and pretend this never happened?! **


	2. Different

**A/N- YAY! Chapter One! Aang has finally come into the picture as well as Gyatso. **

**Now, there are two other people that stand out in this chapter. They become important later, so this chapter isn't as much as a filler as it seems. **

**That's pretty much it. Hope you enjoy it! R&R!! PLZ!!**

Chapter One- Different

"I shouldn't be sending you outside," Gyatso said, tying a sky blue headband around the boy's head securely, "but if we want dinner, I'm going to have to." He finished tying the knot and stepped back to double check if it was loose, but the boy turned around at that moment forcing Gyatso to believe he'd done a good enough job.

"I'll be fine Gyatso." he insisted, smiling widely at his guardian. Gyatso smiled in return and laid a hand on the boy's wild, autumn-brown hair.

"I know. You're a good boy. Now go on into town and buy some vegetables." he ordered, patting him on the head and handing him a small grey bag tied off at the top, bulging with coins. The boy took the bag and stuffed it into his pocket, heading for the front door eagerly. Just as he pulled it open, Gyatso added,

"And, Aang?" The boy turned around. "Be safe." Aang nodded before running out the door and slamming it shut behind him.

The minute he smelled fresh air, Aang sighed contentedly, looking around at his surroundings curiously. He felt as if he were a caged bird, finally set free and in a sense, that wasn't entirely metaphorical. Gyatso almost never let him go outside; always telling him it was too dangerous. He took a deep breath, glad he could smell the world instead of his house for once. The fresh air was a wonderful break from the smell of wood and pine.

The day was bright and sunny, but brisk with winter air. Snow glittered in the pale light of the sun on the frozen ground and Aang smiled, reaching down to grab a handful. The snow was dry and powdery and only stuck together when it melted a little in the warmth of his palm. He squeezed his hand shut, creating a small snowball. Experimentally, he took a bite of his snowball and found the snow had a sharp, earthy taste to it, the freezing temperature of it making his teeth throb. He tossed it in the air once and caught it in his hand again only to hurl it at an unsuspecting tree. It made a _thwap_ when it connected with the bark, creating a white splatter across the brown of the tree. The corner of Aang's mouth turned up in a smile and he let out a small laugh. He bent down to get more snow but the coins in his pocket jingled, reminding him he wasn't out here to play. Reluctantly, he dropped the handful of it he'd grabbed from the ground and straightened up. He then turned in the direction he was headed and started down the dirt road leading into town.

He'd only been to town three or four times, seeing as he was rarely allowed to go out. He had been ten the last time and he wondered how much a small market place could change in three years.

He found the answer was a lot. The last time he'd been in the market square, people had been much more lively than they were presently. Even with the war going on, they'd managed to make the best of their lives, but now, everyone seemed dismal, as if the world's problems had finally caught up with them.

Aang's upbeat mood stayed in place despite the melancholy air of the square. He simply busied himself with less depressing things, like the various sights to see, smiling all the while, earning strange looks from people who walked by. The wooden fruit and vegetable stands stood around the square, buyers crowded around the stalls, waiting for their turn. Aang didn't join the lines right away; this was the first time in a while he'd been allowed to go outside and he was going to make the most of it. He walked around the square, kicking at and making footprints in the powdery snow under his feet. He watched it fly in the air and flop soundlessly back to the ground leaving small irregular lumps where there was once flawless white. The snow made a strange noise, like the low creak of a floorboard when it was stepped on, he noticed. He observed the different sizes and shapes of footprints left in the snow, wondering whose foot had created it and dragged his toes along the ground, still in his pensive state, making trails behind him.

"Tomatoes! Get your tomatoes! Won't get any this red as these 'til harvest!" a vendor called. Aang surfaced from his trance, taking that as his cue to get back to his chores. He pulled out his bag of coins and joined one of the vegetable vendor lines, standing behind a woman in a blue-green coat, her purple dress fanning out from under it. Aang looked up to see a knitted, lavender hat pressed in to hair of honey-brown. Her hair was straight and cascaded down her back, stopping just below her shoulder blades. She was thin and much taller than Aang, who was already short to begin with and only came up to just above her mid-back. He had to tilt his chin up a bit because his eyes couldn't look upwards that far on their own. The woman reminded him of someone, she had a familiar air about her, but…he couldn't put a finger on it. His mind reeled with faces that he knew, however, she didn't match anyone he knew, even though he couldn't even see her face. It irked him that he couldn't remember where he'd seen her before. Quickly, he looked away, shaking the troublesome thoughts from his brain, instead, becoming interested in a bird pecking at seeds that had been dropped in the snow. Occasionally, he'd flick his gaze in her direction, trying desperately, but with no success, to remember exactly where he'd seen her before. Soon, it was his turn forcing him to concentrate on more important matters.

The vendor was a kind looking man who seemed like he was around fifty. His face was clean shaven and there were a few wrinkles here and there, mostly around his bright, brown eyes. His auburn hair was graying in places and his face was long and angular. He wasn't terribly tall and he was skinny. His hands were calloused, from farm work no doubt, and his fingers were long and nimble. He seemed to be the only one besides Aang who was smiling.

"Evening, son! What can I get for you?" he asked brightly. Aang smiled and looked around at all the types of vegetables the man was selling.

"Uh…I'll take four carrots, three red peppers, two onions, four tomatoes, and…I think that's it." he said. The vendor quickly put Aang's order in a burlap sack, being careful to put the tomatoes on top, then placed the sack on the counter and smiled warmly.

"That'll be four silver pieces." he said. Aang fished in his little coin sack and placed his payment on the counter, grabbing his sack of vegetables as well.

"Thank you sir." he said politely, starting to head back home, but the vendor put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him.

"Now wait just a minute there, son. I haven't seen anyone as happy as you in days. What makes the world so great for you?" the vendor asked curiously. Aang shrugged and grinned.

"It's been a long time since I last went outside. It feels good to get out in the open air." he replied. The vendor nodded, smiling kindly.

"An optimistic boy, you are. These are dark times, but best to live up life while you still got it, what with all the secret police around these days, am I right?" he asked, his smile dimming a bit. Aang nodded and "Hmm"-ed in response. There was a silence as Aang looked around at all the ripe vegetables for a moment. A question suddenly came to his mind.

"Why do you sell vegetables out here in the winter? Shouldn't you do that in fall?" he asked. The vendor looked surprised for a moment before smiling once more.

"You're a clever boy, I see. Well, think of winter as a gigantic cooler." he explained. Aang understood this, but there were a few things that didn't make sense to him.

"Don't you get cold? Wouldn't it be better to sell indoors where it's warmer?"

"Oh, believe me. I DO get cold, son. I'd like nothing more than to get in my pajamas and go to sleep by the fire, but I've got to keep bread on the table. As for an inside store…well, there are some complications with that. With the Fire Lord ruling, prices have gone up on property. It's easier for us simple folk to just set up a little place on the street." he replied. Aang nodded in understanding.

"I see." He checked behind him to see if he was holding up a line, but saw he was the only one standing at the stall.

"It seems like you'll be getting your wish to get warm, sir. I guess I'll head home so you can too." Aang said, turning back to the vendor.

"I appreciate your consideration. Perhaps we'll meet again. Now be off, before your feet freeze." he said, smiling at Aang once more. Aang smiled back before starting off towards home, vegetable sack in hand, wondering if Gyatso was growing impatient for his dinner back at his house.

~****~

Aang watched as a chopped carrot coin sunk to the bottom of his bowl. He hadn't really been eating his soup, more like poking at it with a few bites in between. He'd been too busy thinking about the woman he'd seen earlier to feel properly hungry. He wondered if it was likely she was connected with the strange dreams he'd having for the past five months. In his dreams, he saw faces that he'd never seen before. Weren't dreams supposed to be linked with what information was stored in your brain? The whole thing just didn't make any sense and his head hurt from thinking so hard. The thoughts tugged at him mercilessly, telling him something that he couldn't quite understand yet. He was beginning to think that there was something wrong with him, or at least…something different about him.

Gyatso put his spoon down on the table, noticing Aang's thoughtful behavior and laced his fingers, resting his elbows on the old wood of the table top.

"Are you alright, Aang?" he asked quietly, his gaze resting on the barely touched vegetable soup with curiosity. Aang jerked in surprise as if he just realized he wasn't alone and quickly flicked his gaze to his guardian.

"Huh? Oh…yeah, I'm fine." he lied, relaxing again and stirring the tomato broth with his spoon, watching the vegetables spin in the vortex he created. Gyatso frowned in doubt.

"Lying isn't a good habit, young one." he said lowly. Aang stopped stirring his soup and looked up at Gyatso once more. There was a small silence in which the two just looked at each other until Aang broke it with a sigh.

"Am I…different, Gyatso?" he asked softly. Gyatso seemed surprised by the question and watched the grey eyes that were expectantly awaiting an answer. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and tried his best to hold Aang's gaze.

Aang watched as his guardian's expression turned from one of surprise to an uncomfortable, pained one. He felt his insides drop and a rush of cold wash over him, making him shiver. This couldn't mean anything good…

Normally, Gyatso would have answered in a wise tone, 'Yes, you are unique. You are your own person.' but he knew Aang wasn't looking for that sort of answer. That's what he was afraid of.

"Look, Aang…it's getting late. Finish your dinner and go to sleep. We'll talk about this in the morning." he replied evasively. Aang's eyes slid to the side, focusing on the dull floorboards in disappointment. Reluctantly, he nodded obediently. Satisfied with his response, Gyatso stood and took his empty soup bowl and spoon into the kitchen while Aang did as he was told. As he continued eating his soup, he thought about what Gyatso had said. He knew his guardian was hiding something, but he didn't dare accuse him of it. He also realized that tomorrow, he wasn't going to get all the answers he wanted, for he guessed that the only reason Gyatso wanted to wait until tomorrow was so he had time to think of a story he could tell Aang. Until Gyatso decided to tell him the truth, he wasn't going to get straight answers. Aang then thought about what Gyatso had said about lying. Aang stared at his soup thoughtfully, resting the side of his face in his hand. _Maybe,_ he thought, _he should listen to his own advice._

~****~

The old man appeared in his dream that night. He'd appeared the other nights as well and each time, Aang felt as if he knew him, when in truth, he'd never seen him before in his life. He was sure he'd never seen a tall, white bearded man with long white hair pulled into a topknot, wearing a long red robe with a fire insignia on it, staring at him with brown eyes. It was an odd feeling; the feelings of recognition and unfamiliarity, for they contradicted with one another leaving him frustrated in the end.

This time, the old man was pointing at something and Aang followed with his eyes down his arm, to his finger. His gaze kept wandering in the direction in which the old man was pointing and soon found he was gesturing towards a large bird. The bird was a vibrant shade of scarlet with golden feathers on its underside. Orange plumes flowed out from its tail and its head was similar to that of a cardinal's with its glossy red feather's slanting upwards. Its beak was not like that of cardinal's however; it was a golden-brown, large, and sharp. It could easily clip off one of his fingers with one snap. Its talons were black, strong, and also very sharp. Aang gaped in wonder at this magnificent bird and it stared back with a keen, golden eye. He got the uncomfortable feeling that it could see into his soul and read his mind and quickly lowered his gaze to look at the glossy golden feathers of its belly.

Suddenly, the old man pointed was behind him and pointing in a different direction. Aang followed his finger once again to find there was a silhouette of a large, powerful looking man with flames raging around him. Aang was horrified by the sight and tried to run over to douse the flames before they hurt the man, but his feet refused to move. He felt a warm hand on his shoulder and looked to his right, up at the old man who shook his head in a reprimanding manner. Thoroughly confused, Aang forced himself to turn his head back to the man. It was then that he realized that the flames weren't hurting him, for he wasn't yelling out in pain, or shrinking away in fear. He deduced that this man must be the Fire Lord. Immediately, his feelings of concern evaporated. Then, the bird flew over towards the Fire Lord and the Fire Lord pulled out a bow and arrow. Aang could just see the glint of silver from the light of the flames. The Fire Lord positioned an arrow in place and pulled back the bow string, aiming at the bird. He shot the arrow and it pierced the great bird's chest and heart. It fell to the ground, dead. Aang gasped, but no sound came out and his feet still refused to move no matter how hard he tried. He also found he couldn't turn his head and look away from the terrible sight, or even blink. Instead, he was forced to watch as the bird burst into flames. The bird's flames were white hot before they joined the orange flames of the Fire Lord and when the two mixed, the orange flames became black and seemed to grow more powerful. The Fire Lord laughed a laugh that sent horrible shivers down Aang's spine.

"Aang," the old man said, and Aang found that he could turn his head again. He looked away from the cackling Fire Lord swiftly, not able to watch anymore.

"Aang, the old man said again, only it wasn't the old man's voice, it was Gyatso's.

"Aang!" called Gyatso's voice.

Aang's eyes snapped open to see the ceiling of his room.

"Wake up, Aang!" Gyatso called from outside his room. Aang sat up and looked around for a moment. Everything was normal, no creepy black oblivion, no old man, no Fire Lord, and no dead bird. It was only a dream. He shook his head and quickly got out of bed to dress and get ready for the day.

Aang half sleep-walked into the living room. It must have been really early; the sun was just rising outside. Gyatso heard his heavy footsteps on the wood floorboards of the house and turned from the fireplace to see Aang standing by the couch, eyes half open, hair sticking out in odd directions, slouching a little with fatigue. He chuckled at the sight of the tired boy who yawned.

"Someone's tired." Gyatso pointed out as Aang rubbed sleep away from his eyes.

"Someone woke me up at this "lovely" hour." Aang said, laughing a little. Gyatso chuckled and smiled apologetically at him.

"Sorry, Aang, but I need you to go outside and get some woo-" he started, but Aang had already run out the door, tying his headband as he went. Gyatso blinked twice, trying to figure out what had just happened.

"Wood." he finished before shaking his head with an amused smile.

Aang rushed outside towards the woodshed, tightening the knot on his headband as he ran. He was fully awake now; any opportunity to go outside was a reason to be wide awake.

_Two trips outside in twenty-four hours,_ he mused excitedly. He didn't care that there was snow in his shoes as he ran. Something about being outside set him free and things like cold feet didn't matter. The clean, morning air filled his lungs and cleared the excess sleep from his head. He ran as fast as he could and the snowy landscape became a blur. Soon, he could see the old woodshed in the distance. All he had to do was run up the hill on which it was perched and stack some wood in the old wagon.

The hill was moderately steep, but Aang didn't slow as he ran up the dirt path to the top of the hill. Quickly, he ran up to the wind-and-rain battered door and opened it. He noted that they were low on wood. That meant he'd have to go into the woods and find a tree that fell over, or a stump, or a small tree and cut some wood to bring back to the shed. He shook the thought from his head and grabbed a few logs from a stack in the back, plucking a spider off one. Then he walked out and dropped the logs in the old, rusty, yellow wagon, repeating the action until it was full. He closed the shed door behind him with his heel and pushed the wagon from the back.

He pushed it to the edge of the hill and looked down, wishing he had a sled. Suddenly, he had an idea. He grinned to himself and backed up a little, then he pushed it to the top of the hill again, faster this time and jumped inside on top of the wood as the wagon zoomed down the dirt path. He laughed as gravity pulled the wagon faster and faster down the hill, the wood rattling against the metal sides. The thin layer of snow on the path stuck to the black rubber of the wheels as the wagon picked up speed, until finally, he reached the bottom of the hill. He kept going for a little until the wagon lost its speed and stopped completely.

Aang grinned happily and stumbled out of the wagon, giggling uncontrollably. Every laugh he let slip from his lips made him laugh even harder. Still laughing, he grabbed the wagon handle and started pulling.

Eventually, his giggles subsided and he was distracted by the white blanketed land instead. _One day_, he decided, _I'll go and explore the world._ He'd find out what was out there and go where no one had gone before. For now though, he was stuck being shut up in a house all day. He could dream until then.

"I'm not going to hit anyone! No one ever comes out here anyway!" a girl's voice said. Aang's eyes widened in surprise that there was someone other than him outside. Quickly, he turned his head to see ahead of him only to come face to face with a canoe. He smacked right into it and fell backwards into his wagon with a small "umph!" He massaged his nose for a minute and heard the canoe he'd hit thunk as it was put on the ground by the two people carrying it before opening his eyes to see a pretty girl in a blue coat standing over him, mouth agape in shock. Aang stared up into her sapphire eyes, gawking at how pretty they were. He took one look at her, and fell in love.

**A/N- And that concludes Chapter One my friends! 8DDDDDDDDDDDD**

_hHH_


	3. Secrets and Lies

**OMGZ! Chapter Two! HUZZAH!!!!**

**There is some MINOR Kataang! Minor is better than none amiright? XDDDDD**

**GUESS WHAT?! The vegetable dude has a name! 8DDD **

**Beware! Aangsty Aang. He's got a lot of things to think about in this chapter. Poor kid. **

**Well, I'm done talking. ENJOY PEEPLEZ!!!!!!! Review PLZUMZ!!!**

Chapter Two- Secrets and Lies

Esho picked up the mail on his way in when he came home from a long day of selling vegetables. His wife heard him come in the door and exited the kitchen where she was cooking dinner to come and greet him.

"How was selling today, Esho?" she asked, helping him take off his coat and hanging it on the rack by the door.

"Cold, but I made us eighty-three silver pieces! Isn't that wonderful?" he said brightly, handing her the bag full of the days earnings. His wife's face broke into a smile.

"That IS wonderful!" she exclaimed, taking the bag and carrying it over to the wooden chest that rested on the side table across the room, next to the couch. She reached into her dress pocket, cradling the bag of coins in one arm and pulled out a small key, fitting it into the lock and turning it clockwise. The chest clicked in response allowing her to flip the lid open and dump the coins in. When the last coin dropped, taking its place on top of the rest, she turned to her husband, smiling excitedly.

"The box is half full now." she told him. Esho smiled warmly at her and took her hands in his.

"That should hold us off until harvest." he said.

"And then some." she added with a laugh. Esho beamed and placed kiss on her forehead.

"Dinner smells _wonderful._" he commented before heading for the stairs, reading the labels on the scrolls he'd received. As he started up the staircase, he frowned when he saw the red fire insignia stamped on each one indicating that they had been read and approved by the Fire Army Security. It was because of them he didn't get any personal mail anymore. Everyone was too afraid they'd have to pay a fine for "unacceptable" content. When Esho came to the last scroll however, he found it was not stamped with the red fire insignia. There was also a black ribbon tied around it telling him it was urgent. He raised an eyebrow at the rolled up parchment before slipping it into his pocket, carrying the other scrolls under his arm.

When he entered his room, he threw the other scrolls onto the bed he shared with his wife, taking out the black ribbon one and heading over to the desk in the far corner of the room. He hastily untied it as he sat down and opened it as quickly as he could without ripping it. He began to read.

_Dear Esho, _

_My good friend, I hope you're doing well with your vegetable selling business and I hope your wife, Kila, is doing well._

_Unfortunately, I must be brief and to the point. I met with the leaders of the Shadow Warriors a few days ago and I am on a mission. The Fire Lord has made plans that could put the world in more jeopardy than it's already in. I need to find the Avatar; he's the only one who can save us at this point. Please, Esho, if I could ask you just one thing; keep an eye out for someone who covers their forehead, hands, and feet. The Avatar has arrow shaped tattoos; he is of the Air origin this cycle. (I've been doing some research on the Avatar.) This would help me greatly in my search. _

_Make sure no one sees this message._

_Your friend, _

_Varjak_

Esho put down the scroll and leaned back in his chair. That was certainly an interesting letter to say the least, and not just because of the content. He hadn't heard from Varjak for months. Setting that aside, he knew that his task would be a bit difficult considering everyone covered their hands, feet, and forehead during winter, but if Varjak was right about the Fire Lord, he had to give it a try. Quickly, he grabbed a pen and paper to begin a response.

"Esho! Dinner!" called his wife from the bottom of the stairs, stopping him in his efforts. He hesitated a moment, pen in hand before he decided not to keep his wife waiting. He dropped the pen onto the desk with a clatter, catching it before it rolled off and placing it in the shallow rut on the top, preventing it from rolling away again. It'd have to wait until after dinner.

~****~

"Are you okay? I didn't see you in front of me! I am SO sorry." the girl standing over Aang babbled. He climbed out of the wagon and brushed a few pieces of wood off his pants casually.

"No harm done." he assured cheerfully. The girl sighed with relief.

"That's good." she said, relaxing a bit.

"Told you you'd hit someone." a boy who looked a year older than the girl muttered from behind. He was tall and his skin, like the girls, was quite a few shades darker than his own. Aang could tell he was lanky under his thick coat. He had a long, defined, expressive face and his thick, dark brown hair was pulled back into a tufty ponytail. The girl scowled and turned to the boy.

"Whatever! It was an accident!" she insisted. The older boy just snickered in response and the girl turned away from him, her jaw clenched with impatience. Aang guessed that they were siblings by the way they bickered and the family resemblance.

"So uh…what are you guys doing out here?" Aang asked, attempting to bring a friendly atmosphere back to the conversation. The girl's expression softened noticeably at his words and she smiled, sending the friendly vibe back to him. Aang tried extremely hard not to stare; she was very pretty when she smiled…

"My brother Sokka and I were going fishing at the lake. I'm Katara by the way. What's your name?" she asked curiously. Aang grinned brightly.

"I'm Aang. Nice to meet you Katara and Sokka." he replied. Katara smiled warmly.

"Nice to meet you too Aang." she commented. The boy named Sokka made a gagging noise.

"Katara, stop flirting. We've got dinner to catch." he complained, tapping his foot impatiently in the snow. Aang had never been so glad for the winters chill, for at that moment, his cheeks flushed a light pink. He could shrug it off, saying it was the cold. Katara's eyes left Aang's face, embarrassed by her brother's comment.

"I'm not flirting with him, I'm being friendly." she snapped, annoyance in her tone. With some difficulty, she looked at Aang again. She hesitated a moment before asking, "So, do you want to come with us? I don't like fishing. I usually just sit by the water and watch Sokka stab at the water. It'd be nice to have some company. We can get to know each other better." she offered, shrugging casually. Aang didn't even have to think about his answer, but he didn't let the fact he still had a wagon of wood to deliver slip his mind.

"Don't I get a say in this?" asked Sokka.

"No." Katara snorted, as if his opinion was comical, not even bothering to look at him. He made an irritated noise, but didn't say anything more. He kept a watchful eye on Aang.

"Sure! I'd love to go, but I have some wood to bring back to my house." he said, pointing at said wood.

"Oh, okay. I guess we'll just leave the canoe here, no one will steal it, and if I'm not mistaken, that's your house way back there." Katara said, gesturing towards the old, rickety wooden house that Aang lived in.

"Yep, that's it." he mumbled, feeling embarrassed he didn't have a more impressive home.

"Let's go!" Katara said excitedly, not seeming to notice Aang's embarrassment, or care that he lived in a shabby, old, cabin. That made him feel a little better and he couldn't help but smile. He felt his upbeat mood flow back in and he saw just how wonderful this morning really was. It was sunny out, it was peaceful, and he was on the right path to making two new friends, although, he wasn't sure new was the right word. He'd never had friends before in his life, so they couldn't really be "new" could they?

"You're lucky to live out here." Katara said suddenly, distracting Aang from picking up the wagon handle. He looked around at the vast countryside, covered in a blanket of snow, sloping gently like white waves in the land. He had to agree, the only disadvantage being it got very lonely at times.

"Yeah. It's pretty great." Aang agreed, smiling to himself, looking around at the world, hoping to put footprints on the untouched snow one day.

"Hey, Aang? Are your parents awake yet? I don't want to wake them or anything." Katara said as Aang picked up the wagon handle again. He froze at her words and everything suddenly became quiet.

"I...they're…" he stammered, trying to think of a way to tell her that his parents had died when he was about a year old without shocking her. He ended up not having to say anything because Katara seemed to understand what his hesitation meant. She walked over to him, her eyes shining sympathetically.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to-" she started but Aang interrupted.

"It's alright. You didn't know." he said, smiling softly, hoping it was reassuring.

"Sokka and I know how it feels. Our mother was killed when we were little." she said, a little thickly if Aang wasn't mistaken.

"I'm sorry to hear that." he replied. Katara was silent for a moment before she smiled again, a little softer than before, but happy all the same, and started towards Aang's house.

"Come on! Let's get going before it gets too late!" she called from a few yards away. Aang looked at Sokka who was shaking his head, disbelievingly.

"From hi, to my mom is dead in all of five minutes. She's definitely got a way with people… " he mused, sarcasm in his tone. He looked over at Aang and inspected him suspiciously for a moment as if he were trying to tell if he were a Secret Policeman in disguise before his stare relaxed and he shrugged. Aang took that as his cue to start after Katara.

~****~

_Dear Varjak,_

_I will do my best to help you on your quest to find the Avatar; it is a pleasure to help an old friend. My wife and I are doing fine and the vegetable business is going very well._

_I wish you luck on your journey as well as safety. _

_Your friend, _

_Esho_

Esho rolled up the scroll when it was finished, and fished in the desk's various drawers for a black ribbon to tie it with. He plunged his hand a little too quickly into one drawer and a pin poked his fingertip. He retracted it swiftly, more in shock than pain, and checked for blood. There was a little dent in his skin, but the pin hadn't penetrated the calloused skin of his fingertip. Slower this time, he reached into the drawer and rummaged around until his fingers met with the silky weavings of a ribbon and he tugged it out to find it wasn't black, but red. He frowned and dropped it back in, searching once more for one black in color. He found one stuffed in the back, slightly wrinkled, after a minute of searching. Hastily, he tied it around the scroll securely. When he was finished, he leaned back in his chair, dropping his hands to his knees, gazing intensely at the rolled up parchment before him. Now that the easy part was over, here came the hard part: Getting the message back to Varjak.

Suddenly, there was a squawk from the window sill and he turned quickly in the direction of the unknown noise. He saw there was a large bird, about two feet high, sitting on his windowsill. It was jet black and looked like some sort of black blue jay. Its eyes were shrewd, and oddly…blue. He noticed it had a package on its back; a black, metal cylinder, just large enough to hold…

Esho looked back at the scroll sitting on his desk and smiled. Varjak had thought ahead.

~****~

"How come you wear that headband?" Katara asked questioned from beside Aang. He turned his head quickly in her direction, caught off guard by her question.

"Huh? Oh…this?" he clarified, looking upwards as if he'd be able to see the sky blue fabric that rested on his forehead. Katara giggled.

"Yeah, that." she repeated, and then asked, "Do you always wear it?"

"Only outside." he replied. Katara nodded in understanding. She was distracted for a moment, watching Sokka stab at the dark, icy, waters of the lake, hoping to snag a fish in the process.

"So, why do you wear it?" she asked once more. Aang avoided her gaze as he tried to think of something to tell her. Gyatso had told him NEVER to reveal what was under his headband.

"I…um…hav-have a scar!" he said a little too loudly. "It's REALLY embarrassing." Katara raised a skeptical eyebrow and smirked.

"You're really bad at lying." she told him. Then she sighed and looked out on the lake again, it's waters rippling like melted glass. "But if you don't want to tell me, I have no right to keep pestering you about it."

Aang was grateful for Katara's respect for his personal business. She seemed like a nice person. He already felt a special bond forming between them.

They both remained silent and Aang watched her watch the lake. She was very pretty, with her midnight brown hair wrapped into two braids, one behind each ear, her smooth, brown sugar skin, her pretty, oval face and her perfect lips and nose. She buried her chin in her thick blue coat, wrapping her gloved hands tighter around her bent knees.

"Do you come outside a lot?" Aang asked without thinking. He realized how strange that must have sounded to her by the weird look she gave him in response.

"Uh…yeah…?" she replied, confused by his question. Aang suddenly found his shoes extremely interesting.

"I…only ask because I don't get to come out very often. My guardian, Gyatso, always says it's too dangerous. I'm lucky he even let me come here with you guys. I guess he's glad I finally have friends."

Katara looked at him curiously before her eyes traveled up to his headband.

"It has something to do with that mysterious headband I'll bet." she predicted, grinning dazzlingly at him. Aang shrugged; even he didn't know the reason why he was only allowed outside a handful of times a year. He knew the dangers of the Secret Police, but they only attacked you for highly suspicious behavior and crime. That wasn't a good enough reason to be locked inside for most of your life.

This conversation reminded Aang that Gyatso still owed him an answer to his question that he'd asked yesterday at dinner. He'd suspected Gyatso had been keeping a secret from him, and now he was sure. He wondered if it was even worth finding out what he had to say, because he knew it was going to be sugar coated, or just a flat out lie. Gyatso's reluctance to tell him right away told him that. It made him angry that Gyatso would even think about keeping the truth from him and he frowned. Then he remembered that not just a minute ago, he'd lied to Katara. Guilt formed a lump in his throat. It didn't matter that she had figured out he wasn't being truthful, it was still wrong. It wasn't fair for him to be angry at Gyatso for something he'd just done himself.

_That's what my life is,_ he thought to himself,_ just a bunch of secrets and lies. _

**A/N- GASP! Aangy is being so…angst-y! 8OOOOO**

**He's a troubled child. V___V **

**It's all the unfolding mystery…**

**Well, I hope you enjoyed it! And you know what would make my day? SOME REVIEWS!!! 8DDDDDD**


	4. Sharpening Obscurities

**A/N- Oh my, Chapter Three is here at last! 8DDDDD Chapter Three is going to be GOOD. This is where stuff gets interesting! DDDDDD A new OC is coming too. He's annoying. :P**

**Alright, enough stalling! Let's get's this story on the road! 8DDDDDDDDDDDDDD**

**Disclaimer- I OWN NOTHING except some random sheets of loose-leaf I write my stories on. XDDDDD**

**R&R**

Chapter Three- Sharpening Obscurities

Tatsu never kept the Fire Lord waiting. He knew better than that. Quickly, he burst into the throne room and dropped to his knees before the raging flames surrounding the Fire Lord himself.

"My Lord." he addressed from the black marble of the floor.

"Tatsu, have the arrangements been made?" the Fire Lord asked in a cool tone, the flames roaring around him. Tatsu adjusted himself into a kneeling position.

"Yes, my Lord. We will begin our journey in two season's time. That way it will be the right time when we capture the phoenix." he told him. The Fire Lord hesitated a moment, only the crackling of the flames echoing in the vast throne room that was filled only by pillars with intricately carved dragons coiling up to the ceiling where their heads supported the roof and the fiery throne.

"Hmm. It's a very long wait…" the Fire Lord began. Tatsu gulped, worrying that he'd said something wrong. "I believe you are right though. Very well. Two seasons it is." he agreed, waving his hand, dismissing Tatsu.

Tatsu bowed swiftly and low, his nose nearly touching the ground, his glasses threatening to fall off, before scrambling to his feet and walking briskly from the room.

Prince Zuko watched as his father's assistant left the throne room from beside the red and black tapestry hanging by the door. He had watched his father make plans to carry out his phoenix scheme for the past few weeks and he was completely against it. In fact, he detested of his father's ways entirely. He watched people suffer under his hand. Too many.

He had to thank his mother for setting him on the right path, keeping him from following the ways of his father. She had been a good woman who was fair and just and that was exactly why she had been banished eight years ago. His father had become tired of the numerous arguments they had over the way he was ruling and had threatened to hurt his own son. He knew Zuko was her favorite. Zuko had been outside the door listening and heard his father threaten to attack him. His mother had begged him not to hurt her son and had agreed to flee the country. He never saw her again after that day. Of course, Zuko had also been caught listening at the door by his father. Then…all he saw was fire. Despite his mother's promise to leave to protect him, he face was permanently scarred.

His sister, Azula, wasn't much better than his father. She was his favorite and acted in a similar way that he did. Cold, uncaring, and cruel. That pretty much summed it up.

Zuko often thought about running away from this awful place, this living nightmare. He reached up and touched the skin under his left eye where his scar was. It was rougher and dryer than the rest of his skin.

Thinking about these things, his past, his life, made him want to get away even more and fury bubbled ferociously inside him. When it became too much, he whirled around and kicked the wall with a yell of anger.

He was tired of it. He was completely sick of it. He wasn't going to live the rest of his life like this, he was going to have a future that he wanted. It was the end of the line now, he wasn't going to sit around and watch his father hurt people and he wasn't going to let himself be one of those people either. He was leaving. Tonight.

~****~

There were two reasons why becoming friends with Katara was the best thing that had ever happened to Aang in his life. One, she was his pass to get outside, and two, she was the nicest most wonderful person he'd met. He leaned more towards the second reason; the first was really just a bonus that came with the package.

Today was just like the day before. Bright and brisk. Though, some of the snow seemed to have melted and there were less people in the market square. Aang walked next to Katara and talked with her to get to know her better as she did the same. She seemed to be very interested about his life even if he himself thought it was about as boring as looking at a sack of potatoes.

Katara also seemed to find it very shocking he'd never been outside town.

"So, you've never been past the market square?" Katara asked disbelievingly. Aang grinned at her.

"Well," he began, "judging by how often I go outside is it really that surprising?" Katara giggled a little.

"No, I guess not." she replied, then checked behind her to see Sokka had stopped at one of the vendor lines. She rolled her eyes and smirked. Sokka and his endless stomach…

When she turned back to Aang, he was looking at her and for the first time, she noticed the true color of his eyes. The rising sun had made them seem brown, but now she could see that they were a steely grey. She stared at them, not quite being able to wrap her mind around the fact that they were grey.

Her eyebrows furrowed as she contemplated them and she saw them darken as Aang became confused. Most likely from why she was looking at him like that. Sure enough, he asked,

"Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked self-consciously.

"It's just your eyes. I've never seen grey eyes before." she replied reassuringly, tearing her gaze from the intense grey pools. Aang relaxed, glad it wasn't anything bad.

"_I've_ never seen blue eyes like yours." he told her with a shy smile. Katara raised an eyebrow in amusement and a smile of her own appeared on her face.

"You're strange but I like you, Aang."

~****~

"What's the bag for Zuzu?" Azula's voice said from behind. Zuko stopped dead in his tracks, ceasing his progress to his room before turning to face his sister, scowling. She was smirking at him like she knew something he didn't. He didn't like the idea of that.

"None of your business, Azula. And DON'T call me that!" he growled angrily, annoyance boiling in his stomach at the humiliating nickname his sister had branded him with. Azula's smirk just widened, her red-painted lips curling upwards in a dark smile.

"Unlike you, Zuko, I'm not an idiot. I know what you're doing. Just try running away tonight and see what happens." she said coolly, grinning devilishly at him. Before Zuko could reply, she turned and walked away, the only sound being the clap of her shoes on the floor.

Zuko watched her leave, his mind working to figure out what she had meant by, 'just see what happens.' Would she tell father? That sounded like something she would do. Or maybe she'd confront him herself. Zuko grimaced at the thought. She was an experienced martial artist and he was sure that if his father hadn't wiped the Guru's off the face of the planet before she was born, he was sure that he would have gotten her to learn firebending.

_Bad planning_, thought Zuko smugly to himself. Although, he still wouldn't have much of a chance against Azula, regardless of the fact that he too knew martial arts. She was a prodigy and he wasn't, in fact, the only way he could have a fighting chance was if he had his dual swords and, of course, he didn't. His father had confiscated them- technically, he'd melted them- when he noticed Zuko's rebellious behavior towards him. Zuko had figured out that day that his father, the great and powerful Fire Lord, was paranoid. Why else would he have melted his swords that would have barely had a chance against his father's firebending? Why else would he be looking for the Phoenix so he could take its power and live forever?

_Power does things to you,_ he thought darkly before continuing his journey to his room.

~****~

This was insane. Esho had been looking all day for someone who looked suspicious and he'd had no luck whatsoever. He'd already had to ask about twenty people to remove their gloves or hat. Disappointment had followed each time as well as a strange look from the person he'd asked. Now he was nearing the end of his shift.

"How could you expect to find the Avatar? He could be anywhere in the world!" he grumbled to himself, scolding his foolish hopes. He checked the suns position. It was nearing sunset now, the clouds turning violent shades of red and for a moment, Esho wondered if the world could sense that they were at war. His shift was over now and with a dejected sigh, he started packing up, putting the fruit and vegetables back in their sacks.

He looked around the streets as he did so, still trying to find someone who might, just might, be the Avatar in disguise. Still, he saw no one.

_I hope Varjak's having better luck,_ he thought to himself.

And then he heard a familiar voice. Quickly, he straightened up, his gaze flicking around the partially deserted market square until it rested on the source. It was the boy he had served yesterday. Esho noticed he was wearing that same blue headband and his hopes swelled.

"Hey! You there! Blue headband! Come're!" he called. The boy's head turned in his direction. He seemed surprised for a moment before smiling in recognition. Esho saw he wasn't alone this time, he was with two others. One, a girl with braids and the other a boy, eating a peach, carrying an assortment of fruit in his arms.

When the boy was in earshot, he said,

"Nice to see you again, sir!" Esho smiled in return briefly.

"Same to you. Call me Esho." he said. The boy nodded once and Esho looked at the other two for a moment. "I see you've brought friends." The boy grinned happily up at him.

"Yeah, I ran into them this morning. This is Katara," He gestured towards the girl who waved, "and this is Sokka." The taller boy attempted a hello through a mouthful of peach. Esho chuckled as Sokka tried to swallow.

"I don't believe you've told me your name, son." he said, leaning on the counter.

"Oh, my name's Aang." the boy replied. He paused a minute. "So, did you need something?" Esho pointed a finger at Aang.

"I'm glad you asked. I called you over here because I'm looking for someone. Would it be too much to ask you to lift up your sleeve?"

Aang looked down at his slightly oversized orange sweater briefly before looked up nervously at Esho.

"Ummm…I don't think that would be such a good idea." Upon hearing this, Esho frowned slightly and his suspicions grew.

"It would be a huge help if you did. I'm trying to help a friend see? He's trying to help end the war." He whispered the last part.

Aang seemed to struggle with an internal conflict as he bit his lip, his eyes darting around nervously.

"I-I can't." he stated firmly. Esho swore there was a desperate tone in his voice. Still, he needed to know and he dropped the nice approach.

"Look Aang," he said very seriously, "We are talking about the greater good of the world here. No, the FATE of the world. If you know what's best, you'll lift your sleeve." Katara looked nervously from Esho to Aang. She nudged her friend with her shoulder to get his attention.

"Aang, I think you should do what he says." she whispered. Aang turned to her.

"How do you know he's not a Secret Policeman?" he hissed, gesturing to a horrified Esho. Secret Policeman? Him? NEVER!

"I can just tell. He's telling the truth." she replied. Aang looked back at Esho who nodded earnestly at him to further prove his innocence. Aang hesitated a moment before he seemed to decide. He slowly reached down and took hold of his sleeve, pulling it up his arm. His stomach lurched as he thought about what Gyatso had told him about exposing-

"The arrow tattoos." Esho said in a hoarse whisper as Aang's skin was revealed from under his sleeves, a pale blue arrow twisting down his arm. "It's you. You're the Avatar." He looked up at Aang's face, amazed while Aang just felt sick to his stomach feeling as thought he'd just done something very, very wrong.

~****~

A hidden figure watched as two guards dragged Prince Zuko back to his room. He could see the boy was struggling against their strong grip and he frowned. It was time.

~****~

Aang tugged his sleeve down over his arm again uncomfortably. Everyone was staring at him; gawking really. He felt frustrated and he frowned. They all seemed to know something he didn't.

"What's the Avatar? Who are you? Why were you looking for me?" he demanded in an almost whisper. He didn't want anyone to overhear having an uncomfortable feeling that this was something to be kept secret.

Esho bit his lip, looking down at the frowning Aang before sighing tiredly.

"Come with me and I'll answer all your questions. It's not safe out here." he hissed, grabbing sacks of vegetables and placing them in the large, wooden wheelbarrow behind his stall. Aang looked from Katara to Sokka who both shrugged as if to say, 'might as well.' His eyebrows furrowed and he looked down for a moment, thinking, before it hit him. This was the secret Gyatso had been hiding from him. He could finally get some answers. Feelings of relief and curiosity rushed in, drowning his frustration.

"Alright," he said, "What place do you have in mind?"

~****~

"So, I'm the reincarnation of a powerful spirit," Aang tried to confirm, rubbing his right temple, trying to take this all in. Esho nodded slowly, sipping his lemon tea. "and I have the power to bend air, water, earth and fire to my will?" Esho nodded again. Aang sighed, and smiled a little in amusement.

"This would be really awesome if it wasn't so weird…" he mused. Katara frowned reproachfully at him from across the table they were seated at.

Esho had taken them to an old, quiet teashop he knew of. The place smelled of various herbs and wooden tables sat scattered around the tiled floor of the tiny shop. It was deserted tonight except for the employees who were cleaning things up in the kitchen. The clinking of dishes drowned out the sound of their voices. They still used hushed voices just in case.

"What?" Aang asked innocently. Katara propped her elbows on the table, leaning closer to him.

"This is serious Aang!" she hissed. Aang raised a questioning eyebrow.

"How so?" he asked, not quite understanding what him being the Avatar had to do with…

His eyes widened in realization, Esho's words from before when he had tried to convince him to lift his sleeve fell into place.

"You're not saying…you don't think…" he stammered, trying to shake the terrifying thought that was beginning to become reality from his mind.

"You're the only one who has a standing chance against the Fire Lord." Esho said very seriously and Aang's stomach dropped.

"That's the …" He swallowed. "only way?" Esho nodded gravely.

"I'm sorry it's your responsibility, Aang. None of knew the Avatar was so young."

Aang snapped to attention.

"Whoa, hold on. My responsibility? So you guys have my fate planned out for me?" he said angrily, "You think that I'm just going to go and face the Fire Lord without argument?"

"Do you have a choice?" Esho asked grimly. Aang opened his mouth, but only closed it again, having nothing to say. He wanted to say that yes, he had a choice, but when he thought about the world and all the sad people wandering around the market, a sense of duty settled itself in his chest. Well, he DID have the four elements on his side didn't he? He took a deep, steadying breath.

"About the four elements," he started. Esho gestured for him to go on. "How do I bend?" Esho looked as though he was going to open his mouth to answer, but Katara beat him to it.

"Bending is a spiritual art. You have to learn from a Guru, a master of energies, but they were wiped out. There's virtually no chance you could learn bending. You'll have to rely on your past lives to give you knowledge." she whispered. Aang stared at her.

"You know about the Avatar? Both-…all of you do?" he asked disbelievingly. Esho, Sokka and Katara all nodded.

"We're surprised you don't. I mean, you ARE the Avatar." Sokka said softly, sipping his peppermint tea. Aang slumped in his seat, resting his cheek in his hand, propped by his elbow.

"I'm just as surprised as you are honestly." He sighed. "So let me get this straight. I have to head for the Fire Lord's palace, take him down, praying to all my past lives to give me the power to bend, and save the world. Right?" he recapped. Esho grimaced and nodded, an awkward silence following broken only by Sokka's loud sipping and the sound of clinking dishes. Aang stared blankly at all of their desperate faces before he frowned darkly and stood, his chair scraping on the floor. He walked towards the door and immediately, Katara, Sokka, and Esho stood as well, leaving their tea on the table. They managed to rush over to the door just as he exited into the wintery night.

"Aang!" Katara called after him as he began to walk back towards the market square in the dark. "Aang! Where are you going?"

Aang continued his trek through the thin blanket of snow.

"I'm going to get some answers I should've gotten a long time ago." he replied vaugly. Katara looked to Sokka for help, but he was just as clueless as she was. Quickly, they ran to catch up with their friend, Esho staying behind, to try and figure out where he could possibly be headed.

Back in the teashop, a man sitting at a table wedged in a nook which was invisible if you sat at the table where Aang, Katara, Esho and Sokka were previously sitting smiled coolly. He'd heard everything he needed to hear and planned to deliver the message as soon as possible. The Fire Lord would be pleased.

**A/N- And that concludes Chapter Three my friends! Slight Kataang coming in the beginning of Chapter Four! 8DDDD WHOO HOO!**


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